Valentino Rossi has 1,945,305 Twitter followers, still short of the Pope but
more than anyone else living in Italy. Nevertheless, his number is up. Spain
is the new bastion of two-wheeled greats with traditional strongholds such
as Italy, Great Britain and the United States struggling in the slipstream.

The rise of Marc Márquez underlines this. Italy does not have an equivalent
production line and the retirement of Casey Stoner, the disillusioned
Australian, has left the way clear for Márquez, Jorge Lorenzo, the two-times
champion, and Dani Pedrosa, Honda’s other golden boy alongside Márquez, to
paint every town red and yellow.

Is this a bad thing? Certainly, Carmelo Ezpeleta, the Spanish chief executive
of Dorna, the MotoGP rights-holder, has been forced to address it. “In the
history of Dorna we never helped any Spanish people to race but we helped a
lot of non-Spanish people,” he said.

Helping hands from Dorna is not the point. Before Lorenzo won the world title
in 2010, Spain had only ever had one champion in either MotoGP or its
predecessor, the 500cc championship.

For decades the sport was dominated by British and Italian riders, until 1978
when Kenny Roberts pitched up and ushered in an era of Stateside triumph.
That phase then segued into the era of Mick Doohan, the Thunder from Down
Under, and five successive crowns in the 1990s. Spanish riders were an
afterthought.

“Spain is a passionate MotoGP nation and it has kept the sport going through
these tough times,” Doohan said. “Yes, there are a lot of Spanish riders at
the moment but they are also very good. If they weren’t they wouldn’t be
there. When I was young it was Americans dominating the top ten. Australia
has had a good run, as has Italy. I think it’s Spain’s turn.”

Márquez, too, did not think that Spain’s dominance was inevitable.

“I think these things happen in phases,” he said. “At the moment Spain is
strong, but maybe in the future Germany or England will become strong.” It
is hard to believe that General Franco’s restrictions on Japanese imports
once alienated Spanish riders as other countries flourished.

Italians’ MotoGP hegemony throughout the 1990s prompted Spain to start
ploughing money into talent programmes. Pedrosa was a boy in a shop buying
spare parts when he saw something called the Joven Cup on a crackling
television. He went home and applied to take part, writing a personal
statement on why he should be chosen. Alberto Puig, a former racer, sifted
through the replies. “We got 5,800 responses,” he said. “I wasn’t surprised.
We were giving them a chance to ride for free. We tested 400 and then picked
the best 32 to race.”

Bradley Smith, of Britain, upped sticks and moved to Barcelona to learn his
trade in the Dorna-backed MotoGP Academy. He was 14 and knew he had to shed
the kid gloves to get ahead.

Smith’s route was unusual for British riders and, while it showed Dorna were
keen to target areas such as the UK and Germany, most wannabes found
progress a struggle. Scott Redding’s talent was evident when he became the
youngest ever winner of a grand prix in 2008, aged just 15 years and 170
days, but three years later he was talking of “make or break”. He told The
Times: “People were telling me I could ride for them if I had between
£250,000 and £500,000. I told my dad, ‘I’m not paying to ride’. I’d rather
get a proper job.”